


transmigration studies

by howlikeagod



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dialogue, Gen, Theology, implied appearances of Anthony J. Crowley, tagged as book!canon but there is a minor reference to the swap from the TV series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlikeagod/pseuds/howlikeagod
Summary: Dramatis Personae:Anathema Device. Biologically a human; professionally a witch, descendent (former).Aziraphale. Ergonomically an angel (Principality); taxonomically undecided.Setting:Jasmine Cottage, Tadfield. Three years, sixteen days after the End of the World (postponed indefinitely).“You aren’t worried you’ll…?”“I’ll what?”“You know. Fall.”





	transmigration studies

_Dramatis Personae:_  
_Anathema Device. Biologically a human; professionally a witch, descendent (former).  
_ _Aziraphale. Ergonomically an angel (Principality); taxonomically undecided._

_Setting:_  
_Jasmine Cottage, Tadfield. Three years, sixteen days after the End of the World (postponed indefinitely)._

* * *

“You aren’t worried you’ll…?”

“I’ll what?”

“You know. Fall.”

“Oh! Oh, goodness no. No, no one’s Fallen since, well, the Fall. It isn’t something that just _happens,_ and I’ve certainly never aimed to start a second civil war in Heaven. Nobody but the Almighty has the authority, anyway. I doubt She would—between you and me, based on Her track record, grand gestures tend to be a bit of a one-off.”

“You’ll still be an angel no matter what you do? There has to be some way to… you know. Transgress. What if you sin? Like really, properly sin.”

“What you need to understand, my dear girl, is that I am not human. It isn’t a question of morality, it’s a question of taxonomy.”

“Sorry?”

“I am a Principality, which is a role designated to me by my station in the hierarchy of angels. Bit hush-hush, how all that works, but there isn’t much more essentially different between Principalities and, oh, Archangels, for example, than there is between an intern and a CEO. Matters of history, certainly, and influence, but if you crack an angel open we all bleed the same celestial light.”

“And demons?”

“Quite the same, when you get right down to it. We’re all made of identical… not _matter,_ exactly, angels and demons are somewhere between a particle and a wave. For me, it really depends on my mood and what I’ve eaten that day—”

“What does?”

“The physics of it all. Particle, wave. I tend toward the former, damn my incorrigible sweet tooth. I really ought to watch my sodium intake but stolling up to a nutritionist and explaining why I occasionally go six months without more than a cup of cocoa would be a bit of a task, I can tell you. What was I talking about?”

“Taxonomy. Demons.”

“Right! Yes, well, on a… a microcosmic level, demons and angels are indistinguishable. Each side has their pageantry and preferred aesthetics, but that’s really all it is. Aesthetics. I’ll never understand why on _Earth_ they insist on the reptile thing, but you have to admire their dedication.”

“You lost me with the reptiles.”

“Oh, has Crowley never shown you his eyes? Crowley, dear! Could you come in here, please? Would you be so kind as to show Miss Device your lovely eyes, darling?”

“Oh.”

“Yes, they’re rather stunning, aren’t they? He was a snake, you know. _The_ snake. Serpent of Eden and all that, weren’t you? Ah, I suppose he had more pressing matters to attend to.”

“You sound… proud. Of him.”

“Well. He did do a bang-up job with the tempting and such. I mean, we have our suspicions about certain… certain consequences, let’s say, but you really can’t beat a reputation like his.”

“What consequences?”

“We don’t need to get into all that! You wanted to know about angels and demons. The wings are different, generally, though again that’s a matter of aesthetic preference and standard practice rather than anything fundamental. And demons… dance.”

“They have a special dance? Does it signal their allegiance to the Great Beast? Does it invoke ancient rites or indicate prodigious tidings of doom?”

“No, no invocations or prognostications, I’m afraid. No special dance, either. I simply meant demons dance. Angels, as a rule, do not.”

“Angel’s can’t dance?”

“I think some would argue that demons also _can’t._ I simply meant angels choose not to. Generally speaking.”

“Right. So if I see a celestial being dancing, I’ll know it’s a demon.”

“I… wouldn’t go that far.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. It’s difficult to explain, you see. Taxonomy.”

“You keep saying that word.”

“Oh! Pardon me, taxonomy refers to the classification and naming of beings in an ordered—”

“I know what it means. I meant, what does it have to do with angels and demons?”

“Classification based on certain traits, my dear. The traits angels and demons—or angels and angels, demons and demons, any combination thereof—have in common or apart define how we classify ourselves and each other, but when you get down to it… Well, you see, the taxonomy of the thing… Do you know about Diogenes?”

“‘Behold, a man’?”

“Precisely! Humans are _still_ talking about that? My goodness, he was a strange one. You lovely creatures have been trying for thousands of years to categorize and define yourselves and the world around you. Heaven and Hell have done the same thing for even longer and with much less self-awareness. Diogenes never waltzed up to Gabriel holding a prism and said ‘Behold, an angel’, though I’m certain he’d never have passed up the chance.”

“Let me see if I understand. An angel is only an angel because angels say so?”

“Clever girl! Really, the only thing that makes an angel an angel, or a demon a demon—and it took me quite a while to wrap my head around this myself, you see. Crowley has always had a better handle on the metaphysics. I’m sure he could explain it if he weren’t so…”

“If he weren’t so Crowley?”

“No, I was going to say if he weren’t so _busy,_ I only paused because I still haven’t the faintest idea what he’s doing in there. Dear! Do you need a hand? What’s that sound?”

“It sounds like a garbage disposal. Full of something… big. And metal.”

“I rather thought it was a buzz saw. I admit your idea makes more sense, he _is_ in the kitchen, but you never know with him.”

“The only thing that makes an angel an angel…?”

“Ah! Yes, the only thing that makes an angel an angel, a demon a demon—not a human a human, mind, I wouldn’t presume to be an expert on that these days and you change your minds so often as it is I can hardly keep up—is…”

“Yes?”

“Employment.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I was going to say _loyalty,_ but the word has such a positive connotation and that would drive Crowley simply batty to hear. It wouldn’t much describe either of us for the past thousand years, anyway. But yes, employment. Reporting to respective Head Offices. I can no sooner Fall, dear, than be hired by the Devil, which are one and the same, provided all the paperwork passed the Almighty’s desk. They simply wouldn’t have me down there, regardless of everything else. But they won’t have me _up_ there anymore, either. _Someone_ —oh, what _is_ he doing in there? He can’t even hear me—burned that bridge rather thoroughly a couple of years back.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’re not really an angel.”

“Not by definition, no. At least, I don’t think so. I’m still built the way I’ve always been, still have all the right equipment—oh, _there_ he is, only deign to listen when you find something to snicker at, do you?—but without reporting to Heaven or Hell, I have ceased to serve the purpose of an angel. And, well, when you think about the taxonomy of the thing…”

“There’s no category for what you are now.”

“Quite right. Oh, what _is_ that? It smells heavenl— It— It smells _very good.”_

“I think Crowley cooked us dinner.”

“Did he? This is my point exactly, dear. Not very demonic of him, is it?”

“No. No, I guess it isn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> This conversation was originally meant to go into my [_Much Ado About Nothing_ AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19789507) and got a little away from me, so here it is alone. I might write a series of Good Omens Dialectics if there's significant interest; let me know in comments!


End file.
